


Unsteady

by ohpleaselarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bottom Harry, Bottom Louis, Death, Denial, Fingerfucking, Fluff, Guns, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Sad Harry, Sad Louis, Smut, Top Harry, Top Louis, idk what else to put tbh, just read it god damn, none of them tho chill, stupid boys who don't know what they are doing haha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:17:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9550694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohpleaselarry/pseuds/ohpleaselarry
Summary: Louis pulls his hand away, and gives Harry a small kiss on the cheek."I'll be back in a minute." He steps out of the doors, and goes into the single stall restroom. Harry watches the door, waiting for it to open back up.He's looking down at Louis' closed journal, fingering the edges, when it happens.If it weren't for hearing it so much during Dunkirk filming, Harry probably would've thought something exploded. But no, it's the unmistakable sound of a gun shot, followed by three more.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys so last january i wrote what i thought was my last larry fanfic (SOUL) but a few days ago i had this dream and i hardly remember my dreams so i wrote it down but then i forgot to stop writing and BAM! fanfic. so yeah, that's about it. also, if there's something in the fic thats recently changed, pls let me know, as i havent been keeping up with 1d much less larry in like a year. enjoy!

The cruise ship is beautiful.

Harry looks up at the tall ceilings in his suite, the chandelier shining prettily, the large bed in the centre of the room. It's gorgeous. He grins and flops down on the bed, feels the sheets that are softer than even the best hotels he's stayed in. And that's saying a lot.

They've just taken off, and it's all smooth sailing from here until their stop in Hawaii.

Harry sits up and glances at his suitcase, decides to unpack later, and leaves his room, making sure he has his key. For once, Harry's glad he's come alone. It's nice to have some time to himself. He walks down the corridor and through double doors, onto the deck. There's already a lot of people out there, and Harry sneaks his way to the railing and watches land quickly disappear.

"Harry Styles."

Harry looks up and finds nearly the last person he expected to see.

"Niall Horan. What the hell are you doing here?" He grins and they embrace in a hug. Niall laughs.

"Biggest cruise ship in the world, man! You know how much I loved titanic." They pull apart and Harry can't stop smiling. He hasn't seen Niall in months.

"Hopefully our ending is better, though."

They start to walk down the deck, towards the pool in the centre of the ship.

"Who're you here with?" Harry asks, and Niall looks away, takes a beat too long to answer.

"Ehhhh...L-Liam." He decides on, and Harry stops in his tracks, and Niall stops too, and looks at him and rubs his temple.

"Harry-"

"He's here, isn't he."

"C'mon Harry, you're on the largest cruise ship ever made. There's 10,000 people on board. What are the chances you'll run into him?"

"I ran into you." Harry's heart rate is spiked, he's starting to sweat. He looks around them, observing everyone around.

Niall sighs and places a hand on Harry's arm.

"He's in his room, Harry. Please calm down. It was years ago. Don't let it ruin your trip."

Harry takes a deep breath, and fights away the thoughts coming to his brain. He looks back to Niall.

"Let's go to the bar."

 

 

 

"Remember Madison square garden, Niall? Remember that?"

Niall sighs loudly and continues to help a drunk Harry down the corridor towards the suites.

"Yes. I remember. I also know you probably aren't supposed to get this plastered at 30 years old. We are getting too old for this." Niall stops at Harry's room and uses the key, ignoring Harry's pouts.

He pushes the boy over to the bed and helps him out of his shoes and his coat. Harry lays limp, staring up at the ceiling with a somber look on his face.

"Louis and I fucked in the dressing rooms that day. We were so happy. I used to be happy, Niall. Why can't I be happy?"

Niall stops and frowns down at the boy.

"You are happy, Harry. You're Hollywood's biggest actor right now."

Harry smiles, eyes glazed over.

"Fame doesn't buy happiness. He was my happiness." The boy blinks five more times, then falls asleep, a small smile still on his face.

Niall frowns and leaves a glass of water on the bedside table. He plugs Harry's phone into a charger and places the key to his suite next to it. With one more sad look at the boy, he closes the door with a small click.

 

 

 

Harry wakes up with a gross taste in his mouth, and heads straight for the shower. He can't stand getting drunk. Hasn't done it in years.

He finds a glass of water on his bedside table and smiles, reminding himself to thank Niall later, then he remembers it all at once.

"Oh god, I'm so stupid." He sighs. He grabs his key and leaves the suite.

 

 

'Niall, meet me at the bar in 10. Drinks on me. Don't worry, no alcohol.' He texts, then enters the bar. He takes about five steps before a text comes in.

'Which 1 of the 5?'

Harry grins and texts back the name, looks out of the wall length windows towards the sea, and that's when he sees him.

He's sat on one of the lounge chairs on the deck, a backwards hat on his head, and he's wearing a sweater that Harry knows is Niall's. He's writing in a leather book with brown pages, and his hair is long again, like it used to be when they were young. Harry stares for a good ten seconds, before someone bumps into him, bumping him closer to the window.

Harry sits at the bar, and he's so close. He's like five feet away. Separated by just a small sheet of glass. The boy would probably hear him if he tapped on the glass.

"Harry-Harry!" Harry jumps, startled. Niall's standing there, his eyebrows furrowed, a pitying look on his face. Harry's hand is hovering over the glass.

Harry realises how fast his heart is beating. When he looks back at the glass, he's met by two icy blue eyes staring right back at him, a line over the words on his paper like he jumped while mid sentence.

Harry watches the boy mouth his name, and he's so pretty. Harry forgot how pretty he is. Forgot how just looking at him can make his stomach flip.

"Harry, c'mon. We have to go." Harry looks at Niall, and closes his mouth when he realises it's gaping open. When he looks back, Louis is gone. As if he were never there.

 

 

That night Harry lays in bed, and his mind is racing. He can't stop his brain. He's remembering. Remembering their times together. Remembering their fights. Remembering the last time he saw him. Remembering everything. It doesn't take long for the tears to come, and it's not long after that Harry's phone beeps with a message. It's from Niall. Harry wipes his tears and opens it up, squinting at the bright light in the dark room.

'It would be best if we stayed away from each other. Niall doesn't know everything. -L'

Harry drops his phone on his chest, and lets himself cry.

 

 

 

They aren't even a quarter of the way in the trip, and Harry can't stop wishing he were off this ship. He's been hiding out in his suite most of the time, and he hasn't even talked to Niall since the bar incident.

He finally remembers that he's on a cruise, and that's when he finally emerges.

With a deep breath, he leaves his suite, carefully making his way down the corridor, turns a corner, and smacks right into someone.

"Oh bloody hell, I'm sorry-" all pain melts away, and Harry's heart stops.

Of course, with his luck. He's not even surprised.

Louis has the same look on his face, and he's even prettier up close. The laugh lines at the corners of his eyes are deeper, there even though he's not smiling.

"Louis." Said boy closes his eyes and looks away, and it takes them both a minute to realise Louis' hand is on Harry's arm. The elder takes a step back, and looks at his nose, but not into his eyes.

"We shouldn't-I have somewhere-bye." He turns around, but Harry grabs his wrist, and presses up against Louis' back, eyes wild.

His fingers skate down Louis' hand, and touch at the ring on a certain finger.

"Do you love her?" Harry asks, right in Louis' ear. The boy shivers.

"Yes." He says, barely a whisper.

Harry presses closer, his crotch against Louis' arse.

"Does she make your knees weak? Does she make you moan so loud that your throat's hoarse the next day?"

"Harry-"

Harry presses his lips to Louis' neck, and the boy's lips fall open in a gasp. His hand tightens into a fist, gripping Harry's.

"Does she call you names in bed? Names like /baby/?" Harry brings his free hand further down, and presses it against Louis' cock. The boy moans, and his head falls back against Harry's shoulder.

With one swift move, Harry turns Louis towards him, and presses him against the wall, and then they are kissing, and Louis' gripping at Harry's shirt desperately, mouth wet against his, little gasps falling out of his mouth as Harry presses their crotches together.

"One last time- please- I need--" Harry mumbles between kisses, and then Louis is shoving him away. Harry falls back against the opposite wall, and they are both panting. Louis' cheeks are red and his lips are redder.

"I'm married." He says, eyebrows furrowed. He tears himself away from the wall and rushes away, turning the corner a few feet away.

Harry slides down the wall and tries to compose himself. He spots something in the corner of his eye and finds a leather bound journal, a pen sticking out from one of the pages. With a deep breath, he picks it up. He will return it later.

 

 

Harry paces back and forth, glancing at the journal on his bed every few seconds.

"I can't do this. It's wrong." He says to himself. He picks up his phone and asks Niall via text what room Louis is in.

Two seconds later, Harry's on the floor, the journal open in his lap. The most recent entry is dated the same day as the bar incident, and it's got the line across the page from where Louis was startled. It's a song, about oceans and people and aching hearts. It ends abruptly at the bottom, and Harry knows that's where Louis spotted him. Under the song is a single word, the last thing Louis has written in the book.

' _Emerald'_

 

 

The door opens after the first knock, and the journal is snatched out of his hand, and if it weren't for Harry's quick thinking to place his foot in the doorway, it would've slammed in his face.

"Wait, Louis, I want to apologise."

The door opens a few more inches, and Louis looks at him warily. His cheeks are pink.

"Did you read it?" He asks, and Harry looks away.

"Just...the last page. I'm sorry."

Louis frowns, and looks at him for a few more seconds, before sighing and opening the door wider.

"I've just got a pot brewing." He says, and Harry slips into the room with a grin.

 

 

 

"Niall would kill us if he knew we were together right now." Louis says, setting down a cuppa in front of Harry. The boy takes a sip, and warmth fills his entire body.

"All these years and you still remember how I take it."

Louis purses his lips.

"Shut up," he walks to the other side of the table and sits, hiding his face behind his own mug, "it's just muscle memory. Don't read into everything so much."

Harry watches him, and smiles at him. Louis looks back, eyes so gorgeous. All of him is gorgeous.

"Louis-"

"Can we not talk about the past? I'm not ready for that conversation."

"It's been eight years. When will you be ready?"

Louis gives him a sharp look.

"You should leave." He stands up, and Harry follows him to the door, but before Louis can open it, Harry slides in front of it, and gives Louis his best fuck me eyes.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I just...I miss you." He takes Louis' hand, and holds it tightly. Louis looks down at their hands, and licks his lips.

"I know your tricks. They don't work anymore." He says, but his hand is getting sweaty. Harry pulls him closer, and Louis stumbles, falls against him. Harry can feel his heartbeat against his chest.

"Oops." Harry says.

"Hi-" Louis cuts off, and after a beat of silence, they both burst into laughter, which somehow leads to kissing, then it's Louis who's pulling Harry, then pressing him down on the bed, crawling onto him, straddling him.

"You make me feel like a teenager. I want you so bad." Harry says as Louis sucks at his throat. The eldest reaches into Harry's jeans, pulls out the packet of lube.

"I knew you were planning this. Weren't you?" He hisses, yanking Harry's jeans down. His briefs go with them, and his cock slaps against his stomach. Louis shimmies out of his own jeans, then presses the lube to Harry's palm. The boy wastes no time, tearing it open and coating his fingers, pressing them quickly to Louis' hole. The boy gasps, and his fingers tighten into fists in Harry's shirt.

Harry doesn't wait any longer. He presses his first finger in, finding Louis' prostate on the first try. He doesn't forget too easily.

Louis moans, the prettiest sound, and his back arches, his toes curl.

Harry's free hand presses to the dimples at the bottom of Louis' spine, and he's so hard he feels like he's going to burst.

"She can't make you feel like this, can she baby?" Harry growls, and presses in another finger, tapping them both against his prostate. Louis falls forward, forehead against Harry's collarbone, and rocks back and forth against Harry's fingers, gasping as he does.

"H-Harry-!" He squeaks when Harry presses in a third finger, a little too soon. The burn is good.

"She can't make your toes curl like I can," Harry revels in the sight of the boy, sweaty and panting and gorgeous, "god, I missed this. I missed you."

Louis sits up, and starts to ride Harry's fingers, lost in his own pleasure. Harry helps him along, pressing his fingers up as the boy presses down.

"I'm close.." he gasps, and Harry sits up, pulls out his fingers, making the boy whine.

"I don't have a cond-"

There's a knock at the door.

They both freeze in their tracks, and stop breathing altogether.

"Louis! Pool time! Did you forget?" It's Niall, and he tries the door, but it's automatic lock.

Harry grins, and curls his fingers around Louis' cock, fingers still wet with lube, and starts to rub him off fast. Louis moans in surprise.

"Are you sick?" Niall asks, "it's fine if you can't come!"

At the last word, Louis' eyes roll to the back of his head, and he shoots off, his come landing all over both of them. He moans again, loud, and Niall tries the door again.

"Are you okay, mate?!"

Louis takes several seconds to answer, panting harshly.

"I'm coming! I'll meet you down there!" He yells, and Niall leaves with a "okay!"

Harry grins up at Louis.

"You sure are coming." He days, and Louis shoves at his shoulder.

"This can't happen again. Ever." He gets up and waddles to the toilets. Harry watches his arse move as he walks, and considers that a challenge.

 

 

 

He doesn't see Louis for a good few days. Harry doesn't have his number, and he seems to never be in his room. He obviously can't ask Niall, so it's a lonely few days. He explores the ship, having lunch at all of the cafe's, swimming in one of the three pools, going to one of the live performances they have every night. He enjoys it. It is a cruise, after all. It's the epitome of luxury.

 

On the fourth day, seven days into the cruise, just halfway across the Atlantic, Harry steps into one of the bars, and automatically his eyes fall on thin fingers writing furiously onto brown pages. Pauses taken every minute to sip at whiskey.

Harry smiles and sits next to him, spots his shirt. It's the cover of Louis' book that he wrote three years back.

"What made you title it '20-04-12'?" Harry asks, and Louis doesn't look up from his journal.

"That's the date I started writing it." He replies, sounding scripted as hell.

"We both know that's not true."

"It is."

"The main characters names are Will and Elise."

"So?"

"Our middle names are William and Edward."

Louis tries to continue his writing, but his pen just hovers above the page, and finally he looks up at Harry.

"You sure do sound like you know everything. But you don't."

Harry stares at him, and Louis stares back, eyebrows high in the air, trying to win.

"That was the day I first told you I loved you. You told me you weren't gay, and then moved out of our flat. We got back together, then the rumours got to both of us. We fell apart. We had to fly in separate planes. Sleep on different hotel floors. Because if we were even in the same room our connection was too strong to resist. I started to date. So did you. It didn't work. We got back together, and we had one last fight. One nasty fight, about nothing important. We both slept with other people, and you told me you were going to be a dad. Finally the band ended. We haven't talked since. You got married. And yet we finally get into the same room and we can't resist. Maybe it's because we belong together. Maybe it's because we still love each other. Fate put us on the same cruise. Two months before that cruise, you got in a divorce, which only got released to the public yesterday."

Louis is staring hard at him. His eyes are glossy.

"I was there too, but thanks for the recap." He finally says. Harry sighs and places his hand on Louis'.

"Please. We are older. Too old to be dancing around each other anymore. I...I never stopped lo-"

Louis stands up, stopping a passing waitress.

"Where's the nearest restroom?" He asks, and the woman points to them, just across the dock outside of the bar.

"I can't do this right now, H. I...we have never worked before. We have too much history. I just need to go."

Harry doesn't let go of his hand.

"How will you know if you don't give us another chance?"

Louis pulls his hand away, and gives Harry a small kiss on the cheek.

"I'll be back in a minute." He steps out of the doors, and goes into the single stall restroom. Harry watches the door, waiting for it to open back up.

He's looking down at Louis' closed journal, fingering the edges, when it happens.

If it weren't for hearing it so much during Dunkirk filming, Harry probably would've thought something exploded. But no, it's the unmistakable sound of a gun shot, followed by three more. It sounds like it's near the bar, but still far, and then screams erupt. Chaos ensues. People run everywhere like zoo animals. The workers in the bar jump into action, beginning to lock up one entrance, and yelling at people to quiet down and hide. They begin to close emergency blinds over the windows, but not before Harry spots the bathroom across the walkway, the door hanging open. Empty.

Harry numbly stands up.

"Sir, please hide!" A bartender is shaking, terrified. Two more gunshots ring in the air, and Harry is shocked back to life.

"Did you see a man? W-with brown hair, blue eyes! He was in the toilets."

The bartender looks lost, a sad look on his face.

"He was wearing a um...a shirt with-with," Harry spots the luckiest sight, the top half of a book sticking out of someone's bag. He snatches it and shows the man the cover, "this was his shirt. Same tan colour. Same design."

The bartender shakes his head.

"I'm sorry...I didn't."

Harry looks around the dead silent room, all the people huddled together. They are all looking at him with pity. Some are crying. Then Harry looks behind him, at the one door that is still unlocked. A bartender is rushing towards it to lock it.

"I'm sorry!" Harry cries, then shoves the man to the side and crashes through the door, and it slams behind him, locking soon after.

Harry pants, eyes observing the main deck. The pool. The restaurants. The stage where a band was playing just minutes before. It's dead silent. It's a ghost town. All of the buildings have blinds over the windows. Harry knows they are locked. He knows he can't get in now that he's out.

A gunshot rings through the air, across the ship. Harry looks in that direction, and there's bodies. At least ten. Scattered all the way down the deck. Towards the rooms. Harry covers his mouth. Another gunshot. Closer. He swivels on his feet and rushes the other way, jumping over broken champagne glasses and people's bags. Harry tentatively turns a corner, and finds a man, sobbing as he stumbles around. There's blood dripping from his hands. A gunshot rings, even closer, and Harry rushes to the man.

"Are you okay?" Harry whispers loudly, and the guy looks at him, and he's shaking.

"H-Harry Styles. There was...a girl. She was...she was so young. So young. I couldn't save her-" a gunshot bangs so close that Harry would almost think it's behind him. He grabs the dude, and pulls both of them into the nearest unlocked door, a storage closet. Luckily, it has a lock on the inside. Probably for cases just like this. Harry locks it, and embraces the guy he's with.

"What's your name?" He asks. The guy is sobbing way too loud, and he cries out when a gunshot fires, so close their ears ring for minutes after.

"Ch-ch-chuck." He finally sobs out, and Harry hugs him tighter.

"Alright chuck. I'm going to need you to take deep breaths, because the shooter is getting quite close and we don't want to die, do we?"

Chuck shakes his head against Harry's shoulder, and reluctantly takes deep breaths, until he's not sobbing, but silently crying against his shoulder.

"Good. Now please don't make any noise." Harry whispers, and as if on cue, slow footsteps are heard outside of the door, walking calmly against the hardwood floors of the deck. They get louder, closer, before stopping a few feet away from the door. The sound of ammo being reloaded is heard, before the shooter tries the handle for the closet. Chuck shakes in Harry's arms, even long after the shooter moves alone. Even long after hours of no more gunshots, they stay in the closet. They stay in there, embraced together in fear, until someone talking through a megaphone let's everyone know it's safe.

 

It's chaos. Everyone wants to leave, they want to get off the ship. Everyone is being held in a lower level, where there's a large room the length of the entire ship, big enough for all 10,000 people, so that they won't be near the bodies, which nobody knows exactly how many there are. Everyone is trying to find their loved ones. Some people are crying in pain as they learned a family member has been shot. One section of the room is where doctors of the ship and passenger doctors are helping wounded but not dead people. It's louder than all of the shows he and the boys did put together.

Harry is desperately searching for Louis and Niall, and finds Niall in the wounded section, helping out people.

"Go find Louis!" He says before Harry can even say a word. Harry nods and rushes back into the crowd, searching frantically.

Police officers from the ship's workers are taking photos of the dead people's faces and taping them to one of the walls so people can identify them. There's at least thirty so far. Harry doesn't even remember that many gunshots. He doesn't spot Louis in any of the photos, thankfully, and keeps searching, pulling up a photo of the boy on his phone and asking around. He gets pointed back to the wounded section, and Harry's heart races. He forgot to check the wounded people.

There's a lot. Not only are there gun wounds, but a lot of people got trampled in the chaos, and some fell down stairs, and so on.

"--and I wish I could tell you a more inspiring story, but that's what happened."

Harry nearly trips on his haste to turn around, and there he is, sitting on a floor while a girl in scrubs wraps up his hand.

Harry nearly knocks the boy over, collapsing onto him and hugging him tightly. Louis gasps and hugs back just as tightly.

"I love you, I love you, Louis. Don't ever--"

"I won't, I won't." Louis pulls him in, and they fall back on the floor in a mess of kisses, Louis' wrapped hand lying limp next to them.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Louis laughs, tears in his eyes, "I tripped over someone's bag. Broke me wrist. I love you. You're worth another try."

Harry grins and kisses him. Someone on a megaphone let's everyone know that they will have to sleep on the floor, and if they have any information leading to the shooter, to go to him. They start to hand out blankets.

It's a long night.

 

 

The ship is cutting the trip short, and they are on full speed towards the closest land: Florida, USA. With the speed, it should only take three days, as they were already halfway there.

During the first day, officials of the cruise line start to search dead bodies, people's bags, and their rooms. A lot of people say they saw the shooter, but nobody's stories match up.

Emergency food and water is brought down, though it takes the whole first day to get three days worth of food and water to all 10,000 people. The lines to the toilets are outrageous, even if there's multiple stalls in each, and the line for the five only showers is even more outrageous. Everyone is tired, and nobody really wants to laugh. All of the photos of the deceased are off of the walls, meaning they are all identified. Harry wishes they could go up to the upper levels, but at the same time he doesn't think he wants to. 

When they finally dock, harry can almost smell the fresh air. Everyone forms a neat line down the one ramp they can use, and there's hundreds of people waiting on land. Reporters, family members, paramedics, and police. Everywhere. The police are making people gather in this gated area, and they have to enter one by one, the police officers looking at each person carefully.

Louis' got his first finger looped through Harry's pinky, and he's quiet for once, just looking at all of the action around them.

Harry pulls them along, and Niall is sleepily following.

They get about ten feet from the police, when one of them spots them, looks them both up and down, then there's five of them coming towards them. Harry doesn't notice them until they are stopped in front of them.

"Louis Tomlinson," Louis and Harry both look up, "you're under arrest for the murder of 42 people."

 

 

 

"This is bullshit. Utter bullshit!"

"Mr. Styles, please. We don't want to have to detain you. Just answer our questions."

Harry runs a hand through his hair, can't stop thinking of Louis, his terrified blue eyes begging for Harry to help as he was forcefully handcuffed.

"Not until you let me see him...please."

The detective looks at Harry, and Harry gives him his best eyes, and the detective shakes his head with a grin.

"You're lucky I like you."

Harry smiles, pleased.

 

 

Louis' alone in one of the interrogation rooms, handcuffed to the table. He looks way out of his comfort zone. Harry presses a hand against the glass, wishes Louis could see him.

"He's always been so confident. He always...he never showed fear. I've never seen him look like this. He's never been handcuffed before. Look at him. He couldn't have done this."

Detective Aaron sighs.

"Let's go in. I have something to show you both."

When Harry walks through the door, Louis automatically tries to jump up, only resulting in the handcuffs yanking at his wrists. He falls back down with a cry.

Harry rushes over to him and pushes his sweaty hair away from his face.

"Harry-"

"I know. I'm going to fix this." Harry pulls up a chair next to him.

"Can we get the handcuffs off?"

Detective Aaron raises an eyebrow.

"C'mon, look at his wrists."

The man rolls his eyes and unlocks the handcuffs. Louis leans into Harry, who looks at his bruised wrists and holds them gently.

"He's already got a broken wrist," Harry says angrily to the detective, then he turns back to Louis, "does it feel worse?"

Louis shrugs.

"I'll be fine." He says, and looks a lot more calm now that he's not alone.

Detective Aaron pulls an envelope from his briefcase.

"Men, we've got a situation. Take a look at these and please give me an explanation."

He slides the envelope across the table, and Harry takes it, opens it, finds a few photos.

The photos are a bit grainy, but still nice, and they have the date and time at the bottom. In the middle of the photo is a slender male in jeans, a black jacket, and a ski mask. He's holding a gun and pointing it at someone off camera.

Harry tilts his head and feels Louis next to him, the boy's hand curled around his elbow. They both look at the photo.

"What is this supposed to mean?" Harry asks, ignoring the twisting in his stomach.

Detective Aaron looks at them with a stern look.

"Look at the next photo."

Harry flips to the next one, and his mouth parts in surprise. This one is one of the shooter facing towards the camera. The print on his shirt is obvious. The tan coloured shirt with a certain book cover on it that Harry would recognise anywhere. The jeans with a rip on the left knee. The ski mask does nothing to hide the bright blue eyes that are looking right into the camera, the gun in his hand pointed right at it.

"The ship has cameras on it, but they are only for situations like this. After the first shot, the captain turned them on, so we have no footage before the attack, but please, Mr. Tomlinson, id like to hear your explanation."

Harry stands up and runs a hand through his hair, stares hard at the photo, starts to pace. He'd recognise Louis in a crowd of a million people, and the photo didn't remind him of him. The legs are slightly taller. The man in the photo is slightly heavier. But it's a /photo/. Harry's seen plenty of photos of himself that have different proportions than real life. It's just cameras sometimes.

"Harry..." Louis whispers, and Harry looks at him, and sees those blue eyes. Unforgettable blue eyes. The exact eyes in the photo.

"Lou, please...I can't--you can't have killed 42 people--"

"I didn't--!"

"Then what is this?! How is this not you?!" Harry slams the photo on the table, and Louis jumps in his seat.

"Mr. Styles, please, let's here what he has to say." Detective Aaron looks to Louis, who is looking at the photos. There's a few more, of the shooter stepping over dead bodies, hiding near a wall, in the middle of shooting at something off camera. Harry's going to be sick, he's sure of it.

Louis is quiet, and he uses his good hand to wipe at his eyes.

"It's not me. I...I don't have any proof. You just have to trust me." He says, and Harry wipes at his own eyes, finds that they are wet.

Detective Aaron takes the photos back, puts them into the envelope.

"That may be good enough in here, but not so much in court. There's one thing that is on your side, is that we have an inventory of everyone on that ship. All 10,012 of them. It may take a while, but we can go through them and see if you recognise them. Is there anyone who you can think of that may want to hurt you?"

Louis barks out a sarcastic laugh.

"Only thousands of people."

Detective Aaron tilts his head.

"Not liking your music isn't a reason to make it seem like you murdered 42 people."

Louis shakes his head and looks at Harry, though the boy can't look back. He knows already.

"It's not that. It's the thousands of people who, despite being told they're wrong for years upon years, knew that I hurt him. In a way that can't be forgiven. Not even by myself."

Harry knows he's talking about Freddy, and he wipes his eyes, remembers the long nights he spent for years crying himself to sleep, wishing he could've done something different. Wishing he could've tried more. Hating Louis for having his first child with anyone else. Then hating himself for not being good enough. Then finally, moving on. Telling himself that what happens is supposed to happen. Getting over it, but never getting over him.

"And yet, he still looks at me the same way he did 14 years ago when we first met. What did I do to deserve that? If this is what I get for doing this to him, then I will take it. Because I deserve it."

The room is quiet for a minute, and Harry is crying, and Louis is too. Detective Aaron sighs and stands.

"You two clearly have some things to talk about. I'll go get the name list of passengers. You two work it out. And don't let anyone know I left you alone." He smiles and leaves, taking the envelope.

It's quiet for a long time. Harry standing against the wall silently crying. Louis sniffing every few seconds, wiping his eyes and trying to stay calm. The chair is loud when Louis stands up and comes over to him, gently places a hand on his waist.

"Hazza..."

Harry turns and finds that Louis' eyes are red rimmed, puffy, as Harry expects his own are as well. He hasn't heard Louis say that in a very long time, and his stomach is flipping.

"Why am I like this? Crying at stupid things. I'm 30 years old and you make me feel like I'm 16 again." Harry says.

Louis laughs through his tears, and Harry leans his head on Louis' shoulder, leans down and makes himself smaller just like old habits.

"Do you think I did this?" Louis whispers, holding onto him like a lifeline. Harry can hear the fear in his voice.

"No, but I don't know how we are going to explain the photos."

"Well if there's anything we have experience in, it's explaining photos that aren't real."

They both chuckle, though it's not really that funny.

"Do you think the band would've lasted longer if..."

"If I hadn't been stupid?"

"No, if we had both fought a little harder? Our falling out is what started our band's downfall."

Louis nods, kisses his neck lightly.

"I think so. It's my fault. I was so scared of what people thought of me that I didn't see what was really important."

"Having a healthy breakfast every morning?"

It's silent for a beat, before they both erupt into giggles.

"You're so fucking lame, oh my god." Louis' breath is hot on his neck, and they are still curled together when he starts to kiss there on his neck. Harry hums, fingers tightening on Louis' waist.

"Don't...you know what that does to me." He says, but Louis doesn't stop. He presses up against Harry, kisses harder.

"When this is over, I'm going to make it up to you. Just how you like it." Louis says hotly into Harry's ear. The younger's head falls back against the wall, and he peeks at the camera in the ceiling corner, then at the mirror that literally anyone could be watching from.

"Such an exhibitionist. Nothing has changed, huh?" Louis grins, watching Harry watch the mirror. Harry's hard in his pants.

There's a knock at the door, and they jump apart.

Detective Aaron comes in and he's smirking.

"I see you've got it all worked out?"

Both Louis and Harry awkwardly laugh and do no explaining.

The three all sit back down.

"Alright, I've got two copies of the list. From the man's build, we've determined he's between the age of 18-40. So here's the list of all males in that ages who were on the ship, including staff. I want you to read it and if you recognise any names, circle them. Even if they are a friend."

"So we would circle Niall?" Harry asks, and detective Aaron nods.

"Correct. Circle any names you recognise. I'll be back in five to check on you." He hands them pens and is out of the door.

"This list is still five pages long. How fun." Louis sighs. They share a look, then get to work.

 

 

Halfway through, in the middle of the third page, Louis hums.

"This sounds familiar, but I can't place it. Does Jacob VanderMan ring a bell?"

Harry purses his lips.

"Don't think so."

Louis' so stuck on it, though, that by the time Harry is done with the list, he's still thinking, rubbing at his temples like it'll help him remember.

Detective Aaron comes back in with tea, and both boys gladly take it.

"I would've bought coffee, but I figured..." he fades off as if it's an insult.

"That's one stereotype that is definitely true. The English do love their tea." Harry says, and Louis is still distracted, staring hard at the name. He's circled it, but is still thinking.

Harry hands Aaron the list, and the man sits and reads.

"You've circled five names. Louis, Niall, yourself, Kyle Mason?"

"He worked at the bar. We talked for a bit about drinks."

"Okay. And Chuck Base?"

"That's the man the police found me in the closet with. He watched a little girl get shot so I asked him about himself so he would be distracted."

Aaron nods.

"Good work, Styles...Mr. Tomlinson? Anything?"

Louis sighs heavily.

"I can't...I don't know why it sound so familiar..." he picks up his tea and takes a sip, and then he laughs.

"American tea, it's never as bitter as like i like it. What is this flavour anyways? Mint--?" he cuts off, and drops his tea, and it spills all over the floor, thankfully not on anything or anyone.

"Jesus--"

"Oh my god..." Louis trails off, eyes wide, "that's impossible..." he seems to be murmuring to himself. It's quite dramatic. Harry would probably laugh if he weren't so worried.

"What is it, Louis?"

Louis' eyebrows furrow together.

"I...had this cousin. He was so weird. He would talk about cutting people's heads off. When we were little he would come over and he would never leave my side. Always wanted to play house. We...use to go to me mum's garden and pick off Mint leaves and pretend we were making tea for our children. When we got a little older he got really into playing with toy guns. Would say his name was Jacob VanderMan. That he was the greatest villain of the century. One day he tried to...to actually kiss me, and my mum immediately stopped letting him over. A few years back he went to prison for raping his step brother...could it be possible?"

Harry hadn't known any of this, and it was clearly something Louis hardly remembered himself, that's probably why it took him so long to recognise the name.

Detective Aaron stands.

"I'll search him up immediately. What's his real name?"

"Jake...I think his stepdads last name is Len? If not, his birth last name is Huska."

Aaron leaves the room, and Harry watches Louis stare at his paper in disbelief.

"Do you really think..."

Louis nods, and looks at thin air like he's remembering.

"I was only like 12, but he was really like, in love with me, wouldn't stop wanting to touch me. He was I think 15 then." He shivers in disgust, and Harry frowns.

"It's been a long time. Would he still be angry over it?"

Louis shrugs.

"He had a lot of issues. Never know."

So they sit and wait.

 

 

Detective Aaron comes in an hour later.

"Thankfully the police officers first on the scene had the good idea to keep everyone in one spot so nobody could leave...come with me."

The boys stand up and follow, and Louis looks anxious, though you wouldn't be able to tell unless you knew the signs.

They get to a room, and just like Harry's seen in films, there are about ten men standing against the wall, all with numbers on their shirts. There's glass separating them, and Harry wonders if they can see them. They are all blonde, with blue eyes, and around 35.

But it only takes two seconds for even Harry to recognise him.

Harry comes up behind Louis, rests his hands on his waist.

"The resemblance..."

"I know."

"No wonder he could pull this off...that bastard, I swear I'll--"

Louis shushes him and runs gentle fingers over Harry's hand on his waist.

Aaron stands next to them, squinting at the men against the wall.

"We searched him up, found a photo, and grabbed anyone who resembled it. I'm not surprised that the gun and ski mask are gone. They are probably somewhere deep in the ocean by now. So which one is it?"

Louis tells him, but Harry zones out, staring at the man. He can't believe how much they look alike. Sure, he's a little taller, a little heavier, but the eyes...the face shape, the hands...Harry's surprised he didn't notice him anytime during the cruise.

"--and that's it. After some paperwork, we will get you two a flight home tomorrow, and a hotel for tonight. Where would that flight be to?"

There it is, the big question. Harry looks at Louis and finds that he's already watching him.

"London..." Louis says slowly, "a house in London."

"You still--"

"Yeah. I still have it. I go there sometimes when I need some alone time."

 

 

Paperwork takes forever, and the captain of the cruise ship is giving everyone refunds, and it's all a lot of stress, and can't forget about the press. Huge crowds of reporters trying to figure out what happened, asking if they're together. Harry feels like a teenager again, every of his moves with Louis being watched. He may be an A list actor, and Louis may have songs in the top charts, but they aren't even in papers mentioned together anymore.

Harry is nervous, but as soon as the flashes start, Louis takes his hand, and walks with his head high. The noise is deafening.

 

 

When they get to the hotel room, Louis leaves and goes back to the lobby, saying he's going to ask for tea. Harry waits in the room, laying on his back on the single bed, exhausted. He never wants to step on a ship again, that's for sure. He basks in the stillness of the room, no sound of the ocean anywhere near him. He dozes off.

 

 

Harry's woken up by hot kisses down his neck, and his arms are above his head, his jeans and pants are off, and Louis' got a hot wet hand around his cock.

"S-shit, Lou--what--" Louis hums and kisses more persistently, and Harry moans, back arching as Louis tugs him off.

"Gonna ride you. Been waiting forever." Louis breathes, and he must have already prepped himself, because then he's rolling a condom onto Harry.

"How did you do this while I was asleep?" Harry pants, and Louis gives him a wicked grin.

"Just because you're older doesn't mean you can't sleep through anything. We've done this before."

Harry bites his lip at the memory, and Louis watches him, his dry hand wiping Harry's hair away from his face.

He leans down and kisses him, then positions himself as he does, but Harry's so distracted by the kissing that he doesn't realise until Louis' pushing down, taking him in.

Harry's hands fly down and grip at Louis' thighs, stopping him.

"Fuck, Lou, I've been having dreams about this for years. You need to slow down or I'll come in like, ten seconds."

Louis chuckles, though he's just as affected, sweat lining his hairline, cheeks pink.

He hardly listens, only waiting a few seconds before he pushes down, taking Harry down until he's bottomed out and panting.

Harry moans, mouth open, eyes shut. He has slept with other men since Louis, but just the fact that it's _Louis_ makes the pleasure heightened a lot.

"I'm sorry for hurting you." Louis whispers, and before Harry can answer, he starts to ride him, slowly, clenching tightly around him as he does.

"F-fuck--"

"I'm sorry for having my first baby with someone else...I'm sorry for making you blame yourself...f-forgive me..." he's crying, now, and Harry bites his lip, and flips them over, not once slipping out of him.

Louis blinks through his tears, surprised, and Harry leans down, kisses him hard.

"I forgave you a long time ago. Stop being so hard on yourself. I slept with other people too." Harry says, and Louis sniffles, fingers nervously tapping at the back of Louis' neck.

Harry kisses Louis as he pulls back, then thrusts in so harshly that Louis moves up the bed an inch.

The elder gasps through a moan, fingers tightening in Harry's hair.

Harry doesn't give him any time to recover, and starts to fuck him hard just like he likes it.

Louis' back arches, and he's trying to be quiet, but he's never been able to, and soon he's moaning loudly just like Harry wants.

"Don't worry, we will have our own babies. So many. Hundreds of them." Harry whispers, experimenting, wondering if Louis is still into the same things he was years ago.

Of course he is.

Louis gasps, toes curling, and Harry kisses his neck.

"They're gonna run all around the house. Making so many messes. Not doing the laundry. A bunch of little Louis'."

"Y-yeah?"

"Yeah."

Harry kisses him again, but it's mostly just breathing against each other's mouths. Harry speeds up, pulling Louis' legs up so he can fuck him deeper, just where he needs it.

Louis comes with a shuddery moan, nails scratching at Harry's back, and Harry doesn't take long to follow, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

 

 

After, they go to the hotel hot tub and relax.

"I love you." Louis says, head against the edge of the hot tub, eyes closed.

"I love you more." Harry says, smile playing at his lips.

"I didn't realise we were 13... but I love you most." Louis can't help but play back.

It's quiet for a moment, before Harry scoots closer to him and laces their fingers together.

"You know, in all the hotels we've been in, you'd think we would've fucked in a hot tub before."

Louis hums.

"Interesting. You know, they say it makes the pleasure 10x better with the heat and all."

Harry nods, and they only last about two seconds before they both go in for a feverish kiss.

 

 

Back in the room, Louis is taking a shower, cleaning out the chlorine from his hair. Harry's going through the boy's suitcase, looking for toothpaste, as his was left in the bathroom by the police while they retrieved everyone's belongings. He moves some clothes around, and finds a bundle of black clothing. He thinks nothing of it, moving them to the side, before he notices two holes in the cloth.

Harry frowns in confusion, and picks up the bundle.

There in his hands, a black zip jacket, and a ski mask.

 

~~

**Author's Note:**

> maybe ill write a sequel if you bug me enough ;)   
> tumblr: ohpleaselarry


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